Author's Note: I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update. With school finished now, I'll hopefully be updating more. Hope you guys enjoy the update. :)

Love, Katie

To Whom It May Concern:

I'm sorry I haven't written in awhile. I've just been dealing with a lot of stress, and I wanted to find the right words to say to you. Your past two notes really made me think about my life and whether I am owning up to how I truly feel.

And you know what? You're letters have inspired me. Lately, I've made some pretty drastic changes in my life. That's part of the reason why I didn't write, so please forgive me for that. I don't want you to think I will reject you. And you said "People Always Leave"; I'm here to tell you that I won't.

I am happy that you told him how you feel. Give him some time, and I'm sure he'll come around for you. As much as you dislike hearing it over and over, it sounds like he really does care for you. Also, in your last note, you mentioned that he told you that he loved you. The truth is that guys do know what to say to make a girl fall for them, but if he has a girlfriend, I don't think that is his intention. He probably meant exactly what he said, just he's still confused.

The main advice that I can provide you with is to give him time. Eventually, things will work out; you'll see.

Just trust me. Even if you really don't want to.

I found the letter three days after I had kissed Lucas on the day we had shared a conversation in the library. Honestly, I had thought the days that had gone by in between writing my last note and receiving this one had been slow; I had yet to realize how slow waiting for Lucas would be.

Even if it took him only a day to come around, that day would seem like a year. If it took him even a week, that week would feel like a century. I am not a patient person. It isn't even one of my acts I try to put on; I'm just simply impatient.

At the library table, I sat and wondered what changes my secret friend, as I had begun to call him, was talking about when mentioning his own "drastic changes." To some, like Brooke, a drastic change may be "Pink is the new Red", but I got the feeling this secret friend of mine was dealing with a deeper issue similar to my own. How could one dispense such moving advice if they were not in the same position? It almost seemed to me like this mysterious writer knew more than what I was sharing…But how?

I decided to pick up my bag and leave school early; it's not like I really needed to go to my next classes. Advanced art is simple, and my teacher adores me. She lets me do whatever I want because it's a form of "expressing myself" while the others in the class practice shading and texture. Then I have biology, so I just draw during the entire and hope someone took decent notes. The teacher looks like he could die any minute anyway, so it's not like he even notices.

While on my way out, I noticed Brooke rummaging through her locker; I paused and looked at her, then turned down a different hallway to avoid confrontation. Since Lucas and Brooke broke up, she hasn't been much of herself, and she hasn't once tried to talk to me. My guess is that she suspects something going on between Lucas and me, but I don't know. I barely know anything anymore. I just go with what happens, while impatiently waiting, and hoping that Lucas will come back to me.

Finally after walking a few miles I arrived at home, but I arrived to an odd sight. A car parked in front of my house. And not just any car, Luke's car. Running up my driveway with an immense hope that he had come to tell me what I was longing to hear, what I needed to hear, I stopped dead in my tracks. There he was, standing in my doorway, holding something.

I was only able to make out that he was holding a piece of paper, but I couldn't exactly tell what it was and why he was here to show it to me. As I got closer to him, however, I recognized the writing. My writing. And as my heart began to beat faster and faster, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out more letters. All with my writing.

"Luke, please tell me those are notes you borrowed from me for class; just please, tell me that," I begged of him. I didn't want it to be what it really was. I didn't want him to be standing right in front of me holding up the letters that I had spilled out my heart and soul into.

"Peyt-" But I cut him off again, too scared to hear what I didn't need to hear.

"No, Luke," I thrust toward him, trying to grab the letters away. By this time, I was fighting tears. "Please tell me you didn't read these."

He quickly reached for my hand with his and cupped my face with his other to settle me down. Just by his gestures alone, I knew he'd read them. He was being gentle because he knew I was in a tender position.

After I was calm, I looked up into his baby blue eyes, and he spoke, "I need to tell you something, Peyton…"